Chapter 105
Chapter 105
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 105
Chapter Title: The Enemy's Move
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Thud.
Kanghyeok, who was organizing his things, watched as a bullet he had placed on top of the dresser fell to the floor.
It had slipped out of the cardboard box of ammunition. He picked it up, but an unsettling feeling lingered.
Then again, it was just a bullet that had fallen.
Kanghyeok tilted his head and continued to fill the dresser drawer.
Two knives and a kukri.
Gun cleaning oil and spare magazines.
A cardholder with several fake IDs and business cards.
In a lavish decorative box that felt out of place with the rest, there were cufflinks and a tie pin.
‘Is this all?’
Who was it that said it?
To know a man’s life, open his dresser drawer.
The drawer, filled only with work-related items, the overly large empty space, and the vacant spots seemed to be saying, ‘You need to learn how to enjoy life.’
What am I supposed to do about it?
Maybe someday I’ll fill this drawer with other things.
But for now, the tasks I had to complete were lodged firmly in my chest like overdue homework. Filling the empty space in this drawer would have to wait.
*Scrape.*
Kanghyeok slid the drawer shut and flinched as he sat on the edge of the bed.
“What the hell is with this bed?”
The bed was so soft it felt like his body was sinking into it, and the sensation was foreign.
The pristine wallpaper, the intimidatingly large windows, and the natural light pouring through them.
It felt as if a knock would come from the closed door at any moment, and impeccably dressed staff would enter to provide room service.
No, wait.
That could actually happen with a single phone call.
If I asked for five people to manage the place, in less than half a day, well-groomed employees from an international butler school would arrive.
“Hoo!”
I’ll think about that if the house gets dirty.
Having a bunch of employees swarming the place would only make it harder to get used to, so Kanghyeok brought his clasped hands to his lips as if in prayer.
*Bzzzt!*
His phone buzzed with a text from Leila.
[When are you having Yohan move in?]
The house really was a bit big.
Before, a knock on the wall would have sufficed for a conversation we now had to have over text.
Kanghyeok tapped out a reply to Leila.
[He said he’ll come later on his own.]
*Bzzzt!*
[That’s surprising. I thought he’d move in right away.]
*Tap, tap, tap.*
[He needs time to sort things out.]
It was the house where Yohan had lived his whole life with his mother.
He wasn't the type to just move into a nice new house immediately, so he needed time to get his affairs in order.
*Bzzzzz! Bzzzzz!*
Thinking it was another text from Leila, he looked at his phone, but it was a call from an unfamiliar name.
Who was this again?
Kanghyeok narrowed his eyes at the screen before remembering it was Jeff’s alias and pressed the call button.
“Sorry for the late answer.”
(Not at all. I heard you moved, so you must be busy.)
“The busy part is mostly over. More importantly, how are things over there?”
(They’re treating me better than I expected.)
Jeff’s cheerful reply put Kanghyeok’s mind at ease.
Kanghyeok crossed his legs and spoke with a faint smile.
“I’m glad to hear you’re well.”
(I was in the hospital for a month, after all. I’m fine now, but… I have something to report.)
“Go on.”
Sensing the conversation was about to turn serious, Kanghyeok lowered his voice.
(Well then…)
Jeff calmly and meticulously explained what he had seen.
(It didn’t look good. I think it would be wise to prepare.)
The body armor of the men he’d faced in the Middle East.
The camera from it.
Hearing about the quality of the armor and their approach to developing a next-generation version, he felt a knot tighten in his mind.
Iron Mask was steadily preparing to face him.
In that case, he too had to prepare to counter him.
Kanghyeok bit his lower lip, then spoke.
“Understood.”
(And about the suit.)
“Yes.”
(I think I might be able to create an upgraded version soon.)
“An upgraded version?”
It felt as if Jeff had brought up exactly what he’d been wanting to say, so Kanghyeok listened intently.
(Looking at that Iron Mask fellow’s body armor gave me an idea. The Master has also started research, so I expect we’ll have something soon.)
Since nothing was confirmed yet, Jeff’s tone seemed deliberately calm.
But beneath the surface?
Even though Jeff had been a company employee, at his core, he was a researcher.
His voice carried the firm conviction that he could create something to give Iron Mask a taste of his own medicine.
“Thank you so much.”
(Don’t mention it. Is this not the least I can do for the man who saved me?)
He meant that thanks were unnecessary, but the feeling of gratitude didn’t fade.
Because Kanghyeok already knew what Jeff’s next-generation suit would be like.
A suit from the future.
A suit that, under normal circumstances, should have been developed much later than the present.
Kanghyeok already knew about it.
The next-generation suit, its development delayed because of Jeff’s disappearance from the company, was overwhelmingly superior to the current one.
And he was offering to give it exclusively to him. How could he not be grateful?
“I’ll be counting on you.”
(Development won’t take long.)
The way Jeff said it, it sounded like the design was already complete and only testing remained.
“Ah, and…”
Something occurred to Kanghyeok, and he continued in a cautious tone.
“Would it be alright if I asked a favor?”
(Surely you don’t think I would refuse.)
Kanghyeok chuckled, rising from the bed and pacing around it as he spoke.
“Could you make suits for others besides me?”
(Others? Is there someone besides Leila?)
Jeff’s voice held a hint of suspicion, as if he thought Kanghyeok meant people from the company.
“No, that’s not it.”
The Errant Priests.
Another group that shared his goals.
People who weren’t connected to the company but could help him.
If Iron Mask was preparing to attack him, he would prepare accordingly.
What the Errant Priests lacked was equipment.
They desperately needed body armor.
(Then who?)
“I’ll send some people your way soon. I would appreciate it if you could make the suits they need.”
(Hmm.)
“I’ll provide a sufficient budget. They are people I need as well.”
It was a polite request, asking if he could possibly do it.
Jeff, who couldn’t have missed the nuance, made a sound like he was smacking his lips before quickly replying.
(Hearing you say that, I assume they aren’t bad people. I’ll do it.)
“Thank you, Jeff. Please text me the amount needed. I’ll wire it immediately.”
(Haha.)
It was a laugh filled with many meanings.
It sounded as if he was wondering if Kanghyeok could handle the development and production costs alone, but then again, he probably wasn't too worried since there was William.
But Kanghyeok had no intention of asking William for help.
This was his own affair, and besides, his wallet wasn't so light that he needed to worry about money.
“Thank you. I’m deeply indebted to you.”
(You’ll make me blush. Just saying you’re counting on me is enough.)
“Then, I’m counting on you.”
Kanghyeok hung up the phone and rolled his tongue inside his cheek.
Iron Mask.
Perhaps because Kanghyeok had thwarted his plans, it felt like the man was becoming obsessed.
‘Bring it on.’
Kanghyeok was preparing just as much, if not more, than he was.
If I eliminate you, will things become clearer?
The possibility of changing the future 12 years from now?
In any case, the man was targeting him, and he was also one of the destroyers of the world—the only one Kanghyeok had identified.
He still didn’t know if the company was involved, but it was certain that Iron Mask was.
Therefore, his goal was clear.
To eliminate him.
*Click, fwoosh.*
“Hoo!”
Kanghyeok put a cigarette to his lips and lit it.
The ventilation system on the ceiling automatically detected the smoke and activated with a low hum, sucking the bluish smoke upward until it vanished without a trace.
Beneath it, Kanghyeok silently smoked his cigarette.
***
*Crack!*
The crack of a rifle, not fully muffled by the suppressor, rang out.
It was deep in the night, in a place where a gunshot should never have been heard.
A mercenary company’s safe house.
Mercenaries, including team leaders, executives visiting for a briefing, and even clients who were strictly civilians, lay dead with holes in their heads, the air thick with the coppery smell of blood.
“Uuugh.”
The only survivor was the vice president, dressed in shorts and a shirt.
With a bullet in one arm and another in his leg, he glared at the attackers, his eyes a mixture of despair, terror, and rage.
*Thwack!*
As if on cue, a rifle butt slammed into his eye.
*Squish!*
“Gaaah!”
His crushed eye lost its function, erasing a part of his vision and his sense of depth.
“Guh, guhhh!”
The bone around his eye socket caved in, and the vice president groaned, clutching his rapidly swelling face. A rough hand grabbed his hair and yanked his head back.
A man in black, who looked to be of Mexican descent, leaned in and met the vice president’s gaze.
Just then, an armed man who had been typing on a computer in the office called out.
“The files are password-protected!”
The man kept his eyes locked on the vice president and jerked a thumb back toward the office.
“You heard him. Give me the password.”
“Who… who the hell are you people.”
The vice president, once a mercenary and a soldier before that, squeezed out the words despite his trembling.
But he soon regretted his defiance.
*Crunch!*
“Aaaaargh!”
The man, who had driven a combat knife into his finger, rolled his large eyes and studied the vice president’s face.
“The password.”
“Ugh, ughhh!”
His mind blank from the excruciating pain, the vice president could only shed tears. The man exhaled a hot breath through his nose.
He then gestured for his men to bring a chair, sat down in front of the vice president, crossed his legs, and put a cigarette to his lips.
*Click, fwoosh.*
“Fwooh.”
The vice president clutched his wrist to stanch the bleeding, watching the men with his one good eye.
There were only fourteen of them.
Their rifles and body armor were uniform, but they didn’t have the feel of regular soldiers or mercenaries.
That wasn’t to say their movements weren’t systematic, however.
They were trained men who knew how to handle their weapons.
Men who could also use new-model weaponry with ease.
Such were the men who had attacked this mercenary company.
‘What the hell are they? Dammit.’
It felt like they had been ambushed by some unknown army straight out of a disturbing urban legend.
From the way his seasoned mercenaries were wiped out to the sudden demand for a computer password, everything was beyond the vice president’s comprehension.
“Feeling better now?”
The man’s eyes glinted as he looked at the vice president, whose groans had subsided. The vice president’s face trembled as he spoke.
“The password for which file.”
“There’s more than one?”
The vice president gave a trembling nod.
“Let me… let me type it in myself.”
There were three main password-protected files.
The list of jobs and client information.
The mercenaries’ personnel records.
And financial records, like payroll statements.
These men, who had eliminated all the mercenaries upon arrival, must have been after the list of jobs and client information.
It was a risky proposition from the vice president, who hoped to figure out their specific intentions by looking at the computer with them, but the corners of the man’s mouth stretched into a wide grin.
“Trying to be clever at a time like this?”